The Best Laid Plans
by Faux Pax
Summary: Karma-verse. So I finally have the girl of my dreams and now somebody is trying to kill me. Too bad for me that "somebody" happens to be Steve's dead ex-best friend who is now a brainwashed super assassin-robot-ninja thing. On top of it all, the Red Skull is after infinite power, some time trivler is ... well I'm not sure what he's up to and that's not even the half of it.
1. Doing the Right Thing

**A/N: **Hey guys, this is the long awaited sequel to my Karma-verse one shots and it's going to be significantly longer. The first arc of six is outlined to be about ten chapters. I have the first four written out and will post the next chapter late this weekend.

One really important thing though, many of the plotlines I use in this story are heavily modified versions from the comics themselves, particularly the Burbarker run of Captain America. For those of you who don't know, that particular run is the main source marital for Captain America: The Winter Solider. If you do not want possible spoilers, please hit the back button on your browser.

Enjoy.

* * *

The Best Laid Plans

Chapter One:

Doing the Right Thing

* * *

**2036—New York City**

"What are you doing here, M?" Omnious said, leaning against the railing of the roof, his hands resting casually on the edge. He didn't even look at her. He didn't have to; he could sense her from a mile away and she always knew when he needed her, even if company wasn't wanted.

It had always seemed ironic that she understood him infinitely better than those who raised him.

Even in the loving arms of his family, Omnious had lived his life on the fringes being both too sensitive and too amoral to fit in. They had never said anything to him about it—but maybe it would have been better if they had. So much could have been avoided. He could have saved them and stopped himself from basking in the cold grasp of vengeance.

"You're not near as mysterious as you would like to believe." She took a spot next to him, mirroring his posture against the ledge. There was nothing to suggest this was any more than a friendly chat—she was always good at that, at keeping all judgment out of her voice, at telling him just what he needed to hear without lies or sugar coating the truth.

"How did you find me?" He asked. This was supposed to be a respite from the world—what was left of it anyway.

"If you didn't want to be found then you wouldn't have been. So you tell me." She said with a hint of a smirk. She was right. It would have been all too easy for him to drop completely off the grid but he hadn't. Perhaps subconsciously he was hoping she would find him—perhaps he knew he needed a friend.

They stood there for a few moments listening to nothing and letting the unnatural silence seep into their bones. Neither said anything until a vicious, hateful thought struck Omnious.

"Did you draw the short straw?" he asked, more than a little agitated. He had seen their faces…his family. They were frightened and disgusted with him. But it had all been for them. He had saved them.

She looked at him honestly confused.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I saw how they looked at me." He whispered, his words carrying with the wind, "Every one of them…"

"Well yeah." She said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You kind of went off into the deep end for a moment. But before that was pretty epic. I mean, it was pretty satisfying to see that bastard's head pop off like a daisy, although I wouldn't have objected to seeing you draw it out a bit more. See how durable that fucking serum made him. I didn't think anyone could beat him. After you had your fun, though… well you were scary."

The last words were an odd, honest, blend of sympathy and apology that made Omnious's blood boil but not at M. He clutched his fist so hard he broke skin, but he paid no attention to the thick red drops forming in his palm.

"They just watched it all like it was some kind of sport. Following orders." He didn't yell but he might as well have for all the shear hatred behind the words. "All they saw was what they were told to. It didn't matter that the people they watched getting executed in the streets were someone's mother, father, sister, brother. It didn't matter that there had been no trial for their so called crimes. No chance to justify themselves against the world's twisted view of morality. Bread and circuses. All of it."

Omnious could feel her eyes boring into his back. M was studying him but he refused to look back to see her expression.

"You're not the only one who lost family. My parents were mutant hating freaks, but they were still my family," her voice was soft and sad, which just confused Omnious. She had lost her family long before they died. Why should she still mourn?

He put elbows on the concrete wall and rested his forehead against his fingertips, blood from his palm coated his face but he did not wipe it way. Barely old enough to drink in this country and yet he had the weight of the world and the guilt of failure resting upon his shoulders.

"It's too quite." He said, trying to change the subject. It was impossible for him to think like this; he had never truly realized how much his ability—the same one he had never acknowledged or wanted—had connected him to everyone else. Now that every powerless being on the planet was nothing but ash, he felt more empty and hollow than he ever imagined possible.

"Of course it is. We live in a post-apocalyptic world," she said. Omnious couldn't help but flinch even though there was no hint of accusation in her voice. M may not blame him—not completely—but the fault did lie with him.

He didn't respond. There was nothing he could say.

"So what's your next move?" She asked after a moment.

"What makes you think I have a next move?" he asked, trying and failing to keep his tone light and flirtatious. There was just too much going on around him—too much that he needed to find a way to fix.

She snorted.

"I know you, and I'll be dammed if you don't have at least five things in place, ready and waiting until you decide which one is best suited for the situation. You have something up your sleeve. You always do."

He hadn't really thought about it like that, but she was right—in more ways than one. He already had everything he needed. Sure it was a stupid, reckless plain, but it was more than nothing. And if he was careful—if he took it one step at a time—it very well could work.

Omnious looked at her with an all-consuming simile of inspiration that almost scared her. Almost.

"That's it! You're a genius!"

"I know. About what this time?" She tried to sound nonchalant but she needed to know what he had planned. M needed to know that he wasn't going to do something stupid, even if the chances of that were slim.

He pulled up his sleeve to reveal a gaudy gold gauntlet studded with six shining gems. It was a desperate move but still… he knew that in all fairness he should just wish it out of existence but there was too much possibility woven within the fabric for him to just discard it.

"I'll fix it. I'll fix everything," he sounded manic even to his own ears. This was unlike him—this uncontrolled excitement, this impulsiveness and he weren't sure he disliked the feeling.

He didn't have to explain himself. She could read the intentions in his eyes and knew that she couldn't stop him. Honestly she wasn't sure she wanted to. Too much had gone south too quick for her to not to want to change anything.

But what he was suggesting was too dangerous for him to do alone.

"I don't suppose you'd let me come with you?" she asked softly, already knowing the answer.

He looked pained. Omnious would like nothing more than to take her with him—for him to not have to do this himself—but it was too dangerous. M may be able to more than take care of herself in a fight but this was way out of her league in every way.

"I can't…I'll be playing in the big leagues and I can't risk it. I can't risk you."

"Are you doing this to fix everything or ease your guilt?" she asked and his head snapped up in surprise. She should know him better.

"I don't feel guilty. They deserved it. Every one of them."

"Even the women and the children?"

He had seen enough Star Wars to know where she was going with this—to know the point she was trying to make.

"Are you really comparing me to Darth Vader?" He tried to force a note of playfulness into his voice but it fell too flat to completely hide the anger behind it.

"No," she said, ignoring the more dangerous nuances in Omnious's voice. "I'm just saying that trying to justify every action to yourself didn't exactly help him any. If you do something—even if it's something bad—be honest about the reasons behind it. Even if it's just to yourself.

"You did what you did because you wanted to. I mean sure, you lost control, but at the heart of it all you wanted them dead."

"I'm not ashamed of my actions," he said, looking her in the eye for the first time that evening, "but I'm not proud of them either."

"Fair enough." She said shrugging. It was closest to the truth they were going to get. Not when he wouldn't even be truthful to himself.

M turned towards the door. She opened it and stopped, looking over her shoulder she gave him one final warning. It was all she could offer him now that he made it clear that he was intent on doing this himself.

"Listen, just be careful. I know you want to make that asshole regret the day Erskine's serum made him think he had the right to judge the world, but don't lose yourself in the process. Sometimes revenge has a price too high and you don't realize that until it's time to pay."

She didn't say anything else before leaving Omnious to his own devices. He looked out over the cityscape one last time. This was the world he wished for but it was not the one he wanted. But he could fix it all and there was only one way to do that.

With a bright orange light, he disappeared form the broken, crippled world he had created. It was time to end this, but there was a lot of work ahead of him.

* * *

**2034**

The thing about dating your best friend—especially when everyone knew about your feelings before you did—is that half the work is already done. There is none of that awkward first date nonsense or any of the nervous second guessing that romantic comedies make seem a requirement. At least that's not how it was for me and Astrid.

When we started dating a few weeks ago, we didn't discuss how fast or slow we were going to take this. I didn't mention it—I didn't want to jinx it. But that didn't stop us from falling into bed right after the first date. And the second. And the third. And almost every spare moment in between.

"Is it just me, or are we kind of doing this ass backwards?" I said stroking her hair.

She raised her head from my chest and looked at me, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Well," I said taking a deep breath, "first we started living together, and then we went through a heavy emotional crisis that was the kick in the pants we both needed to be honest about our feelings…"

"Don't forget, now we're sleeping together." She muttered playfully.

"I had almost forgotten, thank you." No I really hadn't. It was mind-boggling, spank me harder good. I don't think I even want to know where Astrid learned some of those moves. "And now we're sleeping together. It's not exactly the normal way to do things."

"What is it with you and normal?" I didn't have to look at her to know she was rolling her eyes. And I guess she had a point but so didn't I, "I thought we had been over this. Does it matter what order things are done if we wind up in the same place?"

"I guess not," I said, placating her. I knew she wouldn't agree with what I had to say next, but it had to be said, "but you know there is one thing we haven't done."

"Oh? And what's that?" Her voice was silky and I knew she thought it was something yummy that didn't require us leaving the bed…or maybe it did. It was hard to tell these days.

"We haven't told your dad about our relationship."

Astrid started laughing so hard I thought she was going to pull something. Was it that ridiculous that I thought we should actually tell people about what we've been doing—I'm not talking about the dirty details. Besides, it's not like they won't figure it out on their own soon or a later.

"We've been over this Howard." I knew she was getting frustrated, but so was I, "We'll tell him only when I'm tired of you and do not mind seeing you slowly and painfully dismembered."

"That's reassuring." I knew she had a point, but so didn't I. I guess we were at what would be called an impasse. Neither of us was going to win, because neither of us was wrong.

She smacked my shoulder and I pretended to flinch.

"What? I know as well as you do that your father doesn't like being lied to—not about things like this. And if we keep thins secret soon or a later we will have to lie to him, which will only make things worse." It wasn't like I was afraid of Loki finding out—okay maybe I was, but that's not the issue here— the truth was that I wanted him to like me, or continue to like me even after he finds out I'm banging his only daughter (yeah right, like that will happen). After all, he means so much to Astrid.

If she hadn't been a daddy's girl—if I had fallen in love with someone who had more daddy issues than princess Leia—I probably wouldn't be pushing the issue this hard. But that's not who she is and that's not what she is so I have no choice.

"Howard, listen to me," she said slowly as if talking to a child. Her eyes boor into mine and I could see her practically begging me to listen, "leave it alone. I don't want to see you hurt."

It was touching, but I didn't want to see her hurt either.

"Alright," I said, dropping the subject for now, "but I still think it's a bad idea to keep your dad out of the loop like this."

"Honestly Howard," she sighed a little overdramatically and snuggled in closer, "I'm tired of hearing you talk about my father while I'm naked in your bed. It's making me feel a little neglected."

I laughed. It was amazing how we could be fighting (or as close to an actually fight as we get) one minute and laughing the next.

"So what do you want to talk about?" I said kissing her jawline as a hint that maybe it could be rabbit season again. Wink wink, nudge nudge.

"Breakfast," she said as if it explained everything.

"Breakfast?"

"Yes, make me a sandwich, winch!" She crossed her arms and gave a little pout. I laughed. Most of the time she was so sophisticated and classy, but when it was just me and her, I got to see a side of her few have ever seen (besides the obvious). A fun playful side—completely sans manipulation. A side that was all mine.

"Can't you just conjure food?" I didn't need to ask. I know she could, I've seen her do it before but I wanted to hear her reasoning behind making me get up, because we both knew I would.

"But I like it when you make it," she whispered seductively in my ear. Who was I to refuse a goddess?

I gave an exaggerated sigh. "Alright, what do you want?"

"Eggs and bacon."

"On a sandwich?" I asked, a brow raised.

"Yes, on a sandwich."

I pushed the covers back and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I didn't want to leave the coolness of her arms for the warmness of the summer air, but my mistress had commanded it.

"Howie?" I stopped near the bedroom door and turned.

"Yes, my love?"

"You might want to put on some pants before you fry bacon. I would hate to lose my favorite toy to a bad bacon accident."

I snorted. "It won't matter, I'm using the microwave."

It wasn't a secret that I wasn't all the great in the kitchen. I mean I wasn't as bad as my dad (not that that's saying much) but unless it came prepackaged and with printed instructions, it wasn't going to come out tasting much better than lightly flavored charcoal.

She rolled her eyes and I turned to leave.

"I had an interesting conversation the other day," she said before I could get out the door. I turned around again and saw her with her elbows on the bed and her face in her hands, swinging her feet back and forth behind her.

"With who?"

"It's whom. And with Alex." My eyes narrowed. It wasn't like I disliked Alexander Aaron, but I didn't exactly like him either. He could be creepy—I mean not only could he school just about anybody with just about any weapon, but he could make them want to shit themselves just by looking at him. That's his power—inducing fear. But considering his dad is the Greek god of war Ares (what? Did you think the Norse legends were the only ones that were true? Not even close. Apparently they all are.), he's not as fucked up as you would think.

But I still didn't want to hear about him right now.

I get those two were friends—they have the whole demi-god thing in common and were both rather morally gray—but still wasn't she the one complaining about an intellectual ménage-et-trois?

"What did he say?"

She gave me a slightly worried look and I knew that it wasn't what he said that was important. It was what he saw. See, another of his god-powers is premonition. He didn't see details—he couldn't tell you tomorrow's lottery numbers but if he says something's a bad idea you better damn well listen.

"Nothing important. Just Howard, be careful."


	2. Mutants, Girls, and Mutant Girls

Chapter Two

Mutants, Girls, and Mutant Girls

* * *

"You know, for someone who didn't want this, you sure are throwing yourself into this hero thing."

Toby said, looking over my shoulder at the circuit board I was currently re-wiring for the suit controls. I was having problems controlling it. There were only so many manual controls you could put into it and verbal commands just weren't fast enough.

I rolled my eyes. He's not the first one to say that by far and they had all gotten the same answer. Frankly, I was getting a little tired of hearing it.

"Yeah but you know me. I don't do anything by halves."

I wasn't going to admit the truth—that the power was addicting and the feeling of accomplishment I got when I saved someone was a million times more potent than receiving any award or diploma. I had always known that this life was a drug in and of its self. One hit and I was done, just like my father before me.

That had been the real reason I had dragged my heels so deep—the real reason I had fought with myself so hard when everyone told me it was inevitable. I wasn't afraid of being dragged in by a bad guy. Then I could beat their ass and be done with it. No, I had been terrified of the addictive pull of having a purpose bigger than myself—of a destiny I couldn't escape.

"Un-hum." Toby muttered but didn't press the issue.

"So what's new in your life?" I ask trying to change the subject. It was a transparent and corny attempt, but knowing Toby it would work even if it meant I had to sit through a twenty minute recap of whatever was happening in his latest anime obsession.

"Well unlike some, I'm still in school and my mutant genetics class is a real bitch."

"Do you know how many times I've been to school? Trust me I get it."

He sighed. "With your brains Howie, you could sleep through every class and still come out on top. Not all of us are so lucky."

I cut him a look and tried really hard not to go over there and smack him. Sure the textbook shit had been easy for me, but school was about the social stuff too...and lets just say that very few people in high school enjoyed being shown up by a preteen. Toby knew all this; he had heard all the horror stories.

After a moment he, thankfully, changed the subject.

"You ever think that you could be a mutant?"

"The fuck?" I said, putting down my tools and looking at him. What kind of crazy crap is he sprouting now?

He shrugged, nonplussed. "I'm just saying. You're super smart, your dad's super smart, and geneticist are unsure if the mutant gene comes from the mother's side or the fathers..."

I had never really thought about it and not that I had, I wasn't sure how I felt about the possibility. What made my dad and I special was the fact that we had created our own powers. We had built what we needed to do what he needed. And if that came from a power itself...

Or is this thinking all going in a circle?

"If this is what you think about when you have free time, you really need a girlfriend, man." I said, blowing him off.

"I do have a girlfriend!" he said and clamped his hand over his mouth as if it was supposed to be a secret. I smiled at him, not only because I was happy for him but because I was glad we were on a subject I actually gave half a damn about.

"I'm happy for you. You and Natalie make a good couple." I said, giving him a pat on the back causing the top of the stool he was sitting on to spin. He stopped it at the end of its first rotation before looking at me a bit funny and shaking his head almost like he was calling me clueless. "It's not Natalie."

I looked up from my work, flipping the visor of my protective mask so I could look him directly in the eye. I was sure those two were a couple after the way they flirted when I was recovering from the first time I used the suit (apparently, I forgot to account for all the fact that all the kinetic energy form being continuously hit had to go somewhere—I was one big walking bruise and mom forbid Astrid or Sev to help).

"Then who?" I asked running through all the candidates in my mind. It wasn't a big list (he was more than a little awkward with anything without a y chromosome—seriously; even queen cats don't like him, which was more than a little pathetic).

He fidgeted for a moment, which just made me more curious. Maybe I was acting like an old bitty but oh-fucking-well. part of being an inventor is being curious and there was no shame in that.

"We kind of don't want to tell anyone, just yet."

I couldn't help but be insulted. I was his best friend; he knew all my secrets—but I couldn't be trusted with his? That was a low blow.

"Oh. I see." I said, flipping my visor back down. Maybe I was being a bit of a douche but I felt justified.

"Quite being an ass, Stark. How long did you keep all this hero shit from me for reasons that had nothing to do with not trusting me? Same principle. And really, you're acting like a girl with all this best-friends-know-all-each-other's-secrets shit."

"Then what is it about?" I asked, careful to let no judgment leek into in my voice. He was right, he deserved to keep some things to himself but I was curious.

"You know how Astrid's dating pool was rather small because she has crazy, protective uncles? Well, it's pretty much the same thing here."

"Oh." I said, choosing not to comment on how he pretty much just called my entire family nuts—again, he had a point.

"Yeah. One's rock solid—err…a body builder—and the other is a bit of hot head. She kind of doesn't want to throw me to the wolves just yet."

I could relate. Even though I already knew her entire family, Astrid still didn't want the status of our relationship to be public knowledge for pretty much the same reason.

"Keeping it a secret isn't going to help your case when it's time to come clean." Was it just me or was I saying this a lot lately? First Astrid and now Toby.

"I agree but she kind of wants to wait until she's officially seventeen so…" he trailed off when he saw the look I was giving him.

A part of me was glad I wasn't the only one who though that way. And then the rest of what he said registered and that one fact completely took over my brain. I set down my tools and took off the face guard. This was just too fucked up. Toby knew better.

"A sixteen year old? Damn it Toby! You're twenty two; forget her uncles, that's statutory." I shouted and he shrunk back a bit. Good. The stupid ass.

"We haven't done anything and that's why she wanted to wait."

Like anyone would believe that or care. I may not be a Casanova like dad, but there were certain rules of life he taught me and the biggest one was not to let your dick lead you into trouble (needless to say it was a do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do kind of lesion, but still as potent).

I sighed. This entire situation had disaster written all over it in bright red ink, but as much as I wanted to beat his head in until a bit of common sense wormed its way into the lump of dark matter nestled between his ears, I knew he wouldn't be swayed.

"At least have an excuse for why you're hanging out with her—maybe you could be tutoring her or something."

He snorted. "This girl is scary smart—like beat the pants off you smart."

I could tell by the airy tone of his voice, he was serious about this girl and I didn't know what to say. I knew better than most that matters of the heart didn't always listen to the limitations placed by convention. I mean come on; my girlfriend isn't even the same species as me.

"I just hope you know what you're doing. And that she's worth it."

"Oh, she is."

* * *

"So tell me Mr. Lokison," Natalie said looking around, pretending to be unimpressed, but not completely succeeding, "do you make it a habit of sneaking girls into a secure government facility just so you can impress them with your secret government clearance and get into their pants, or am I just special?"

She looked around thinking it was an odd place for a rendezvous but that's what always made it interesting. The same thing in the same place all the time took all the fun out of everything. For a place belonging to the world's premier superhero team, the gym was amazingly basic. There were cushioning mats everywhere and a plethora of gymnastics and boxing equipment but that was about it. There were none of those high tech things that always seemed to dominate infomercials, guaranteeing almost instant results.

There was a part of Natalie that knew she shouldn't be here—that she could get into massive trouble—but a bigger part of her was curious and more than a little turned on by the danger. And besides, she trusted Sev. Sort of.

"Unfortunately my dear, though you are undoubtedly unique, we are not here for carnal act. This time, at least. Although the activity I have planned will require getting you out of those pants." Sev said making his way towards the wall of lockers.

Natalie narrowed her eyes. Well, that was a challenge if she ever heard one. Besides there was always time for sexy-fun time and he hadn't even answered her question, but she should have expected that.

The last name said it all.

Or so he would like her to think.

Natalie hadn't met any of his family besides Astrid, but from what little she had heard she knew he was different than the rest of them. There was a mask he constantly put up so that he would fit in with them, or at least so the outside world thought he fit in.

There were times when she could see the cracks in the mask if she squinted and tilted her head sideways. It was these precious moments—the few glances of the true him she got to see that intrigued her about him. Not the powers and not the S.H.I.E.L.D. clearance. He was a complicated beast—a lot more complicated than most gave him credit for.

"Pantless but no fun? Sev, you sure know how to turn a girl on." Sarcasm and seduction were dripping from her voice in a playful mixture that she knew would have him crazy.

The slight tug on the corner of his lips told her he was willing to play. He puffed in behind her, incasing her in his arms as he whispered in her ear, his breath cold enough to send chills down her spine.

"I never said pantless. Just not those pants."

She wasn't going to give up the game just yet. "What's wrong with my pants? I just got them on sale and I thought they make my ass look epic," she said breaking away from him and giving a little twirl so that he could see the exact epicenes of her ass.

"They do but they're not appropriate for what we're doing." He said before snapping his fingers and putting her in what he apparently deemed the appropriate attire. It was a simple but tasteful track suit.

Natalie wasn't sure how she felt about him dressing her (it had to be against some fundamental rules of feminism or something) but she didn't call him out on it. it was just one of the quarks she was going to have to accept as long as they were together.

"Which wouldn't have anything to do with a big bottle of that chocolate Sunday shell stuff and several sets of fuzzy handcuffs, right?"

"Pardon?" he said looking up, blinking and Natalie knew she had got him there. It took a lot to break away his bravado and surprise him.

"You know the stuff that hardens when you pour it over cold ice-cream? It would be just like licking syrup off of every inch of your body but with your body temp there'd be bit of a bite." Just to punctuate she gave a provocative little snap of her teeth.

Natalie watched with amusement as Severus seriously considered it, pupils dilated and mouth slightly ajar. She didn't have to be psychic to know he was about a heartbeat away from dropping whatever this was to take her up on her offer.

"Perhaps later." She could almost feel the effort it took him to say those words and smiled. There was nothing better than getting into his head.

"But seriously," she said dropping the playful tone, "if we're not here to for that, then what are we doing here?"

"I thought we could practice. Your gift is amazing but your body is not conditioned to handle it. You need to earn the skills to wield the techniques your gift gives you."

Natalie sighed. He had a point. Beating up on those weird ass apes all those months ago had been a blast but recovering from it hadn't been. But then again, that shouldn't be a surprise. The people she had been mimicking had been doing this kind of thing since almost before they could walk and before she got her powers she couldn't even play dance games right.

"Alright," she said, rubbing her palms together while trying to make up for her obvious lack of enthusiasm "let's get started."

They started with stretches and worked their way up to more complicated things. It was hard to hold back; she knew she could do everything so easily but that wasn't the point. All this was about building up her stamina—about training her body to do damage without being damaged in the process.

About half an hour into the session something caught her eye. No one had noticed the boy come in, but now that she seen him, she couldn't take her eyes away.

Although she was in a relationship type thing with Sev, she wasn't dead. The boy was hot. There was no other way to put it. He couldn't be much older than Howard and Sev but everything about him screamed danger and it wasn't just because of the fluid martial arts moves he was practicing.

He gave her a glance over his shoulder and a small shudder of fear ripped through her so fast she dropped the free-weight bar right on her chest. She was lucky Sev had her on a low weight high rep program or she could have done some serious damage.

"Alexander what businesses do you have here and must you scare the poor girl?" Natalie gave a little scowl at his words. Did he really have to sound so condescending? If he didn't work on that she may have to cut back on his sexy-fun-time privileges.

He gave her a slightly pained look out the corner of his eye—one she wouldn't have caught had she not known him so well—and she fought the urge to laugh.

"I was just saying hello." Alex said giving her a little smile as the neon green color of his eyes dulled slightly and she had to wonder what exactly his abilities were.

"Alexander Aaron meet Natalie Christenson," Sev said stepping in. "Why don't you tell each other what you can do?"

Now that the shot of fear had subsided, she was back to her own fearless self and grateful for it.

"I'm a muscle mimic—if I see it I can do it, which made my nights really fun after watching the Olympic gymnastics competition last year." She stuck out her hand, ignoring the twitching of Sev's lips.

Alex gave a deep laugh. "I'll bet."

"So what can you do?" She asked, trying to get him to answer.

"I can install fear in my enemies, have some precognition, and am a master at just about every form of weaponry. Oh yeah, and I'm a god."

"Well don't be too modest." She teased not knowing he was being truthful.

Alex turned to Sev, ignoring her comment. "Fury won't like that you brought her here."

"Fury can kiss my cold blue ass. I do too much for S.H.I.E.L.D. for him to do anything even if he could. And since when do you actually care what Fury thinks?" Sev was studying him like he was a bug on a windshield and Natalie had the feeling that all the magazines were wrong—boys could have frenemies too. Either that or they were secretly gay for each other and just unable or unwilling to admit it, but given the attention Sev pays to their extra-curricular activities Natalie felt safe to assume that wasn't the case.

"I don't care." Alex said, turning his attention back to his exercises. "I was just warning you."

"You still didn't answer his question." She said ease the tension a bit.

Alex sighed but didn't pause his movements. "I've accepted Fury's offer to join the team."

Sev's eyebrows went up in surprise and Natalie tilted her head to the side. She didn't understand what was going on but she was too interested to disturb the conversation.

"How does your dad feel about that?" Sev asked, sitting on the edge of the boxing ring and watching every micro-expression that crossed Alex's face.

"He doesn't understand why I have to have a reason to fight; to him the honor in a fight is in victory, not the meaning behind it."

"That's your study abroad trip talking. That mentality reeks of the bushido code." Sev said with a smirk and Natalie knew there was more being said here under it all, but she didn't ask. She didn't want to be the nosy annoying girlfriend (is that what she was?) who had to know everything about every friend. If this relationship became anything serious she would learn all she needed to in time.

"Fuck you," Alex spat and Natalie couldn't tell just how much of it was venom.

"Is that an insult or an invitation? Because you know I'm willing to try anything once and it's not like your dad would mind if you got experimental. After all, that was expected in Ancient Greece."

"He wouldn't mind about that. But you are from another pantheon."

"So I guess that's a no to a threesome?" Natalie couldn't help but chirp. Sev looked like he was barley stopping himself from smacking Alex in the head with a club and dragging Natalie back to his cave while grunting 'no. you. Mine,' like a Neanderthal.

Alex just shrugged. There was a moment of silence as he went back to his exercises.

Taking this as a cue that the conversation was over, Natalie and Sev went back to exercising. At first she didn't notice the way Alex's kept traveling over to her or maybe it was Sev who was the object of his attention. Either way it was getting a little creepy.

"Sev?" she asked, getting his attention.

"Hun?" she pointed across the room at where Alex stood starring. Sev looked at him and raised his arm in an annoyed 'what?' gesture.

"I'm warning you as a friend" Alex said, whipping the sweet off his forehead with a towel, "something is coming, something big and it will rock this team to the core. You are going to need to be strong if you don't want at least one of them to crumble."

"What do you mean? What's going to happen?" Sev said putting his weights down, giving his full attention to his friend.

Alex sighed. "You know I don't see details. I told you everything I know." He really did sound sorry and Natalie briefly wondered how much it must suck to see just enough to know things are going to get ugly but not enough to know how to help.

"You know Sev, you're friends are a little weird." Natalie said when Alex was gone.

Sev kept starring at the door Alex had left through, his mind running a million miles over the warning the other boy had given him. Natalie knew how Sev's mind worked. He didn't need to see everything; he just had to be smarter than his opponent to get what he wanted, but Alex's warning had given him precious little to work with.

"We all are." He muttered.

Natalie considered this a moment before shrugging.

"You'd have to be." She said and Sev turned to look at her.

It wasn't like it was a big secret. The Avengers had weird powers—powers that would undoubtedly give them a unique perspective on the world. That combined with all the crazy ass stuff they dealt with on almost a daily biases—the aliens, the super villains, the alternate dimensions, and time travel—they were bound to be a little different than the rest of the mere mortals. It was only natural.

Sev looked like he was going to say something but a flash of black and yellow interrupted him.

Pym was flying around his head like a bug and judging by the slight twitch of Sev's right eye, he was severally considering conjuring a flyswatter, forget the consequences.

"What do you want Pym?" He asked tersely.

"I need your help with an essay." The kid said, his wings going about as fast as a hummingbird's.

Natalie watched him for a moment and wondered how the hell he could be so hyper if were using so much energy to fly. A cruel thought wormed its way into her head. Sev often had to watch the kids when the adults were out on missions and most kids liked the taste of Red Bull. A six pack would do wonders.

Sev narrowed his eyes at her and the thought was clear—try it and die, happy-fun times or not— but didn't say anything even when Natalie busted out laughing.

"What's it on?" he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. They all knew he was going to help even if he didn't want to. He took his role as Big Brother too seriously to shrink in his duties.

"World War Two," Pym answered and Sev looked like he really wanted to hit him.

"You know some of the world's last living World War Two vets and you're asking me for help? Go find Steve."

"I can't. He and James went on a boy's weekend."

Sev's eyes furrowed a bit, and Natalie got the distinct impression that this was highly unusual but Sev didn't say anything about it.

"What about Nick? He was there."

"He's scary!" Pym said and Natalie really couldn't blame him. She had never met Nick Fury, but by all accounts he was one intimidating motherfucker. Apparently she wasn't the only one who wasn't going to hold this fear against the kid.

"When's it due?"

"Tomorrow," Pym said sheepishly, instinctually flying backwards a bit so he would be out of swatting range.

"Damn it Pym! Why didn't you say something sooner?" Sev yelled, frustrated.

"I forgot?" he answered, meekly and Sev sighed.

"You are so fucking lucky we have access to Steve's old war reels," he muttered, "Alright let me take Natalie home and I'll help you but this is the last time. If you forget again, you're on your own."


	3. Unique Relationship Problems

Chapter Three

Unique Relationship Problems

* * *

2034—New York City—Avenger tower

"So how was your weekend with your dad?" Natasha asked, leaning against the door frame, watching her son take his frustrations out on a punching bag that was already more duct tape than leather. He just shot her a look over his shoulder, not quite disrespectful but still a bit rude.

"Haven't you already heard all about it?" he muttered, his rhythm undisturbed.

Nat clenched her jaw and sighed. Of all the things the red room had taught her to handle, raising a teenaged boy was not one of them. He could be angstey and moody and she had wanted to hit him on more than one occasion, particularly over the last few years.

It didn't help that in a lot of ways she couldn't relate. She had never had a chance to be a child; her formative years were spent learning the art of seduction and assignation and her toys had been blades and bombs. She had to fight for every moment she survived in that place, desperate to keep some part of herself hidden from those that wanted to twist her and mold her into little more than a weapon, emotionless and disposable. Not everyone from that program had been so fortunate.

"James," she said, her voice clipped and firm in warning. "What's wrong?"

He sighed, pulled out his ear buds and began to unwrap his knuckles.

"I know I probably shouldn't have yelled at him like that but..." James paused and licked his lips. "It's just not going to work with Sharon."

He looked over at Natasha and she knew this wasn't something that could be resolved with a few words. Whatever was eating at her son went a lot deeper then his father's love life.

She sat down on the edge of the boxing ring that dominated that particular gym and tapped the mat beside her, signaling him to sit down. He grabbed his water bottle and sat down, for once not complaining as she pulled his head to her chest.

"L_apushka,"_ she said running her hand through his hair. "what's really wrong."

it was in moments like this that she couldn't help but notice just how much James had gotten from his father. They had the same build, eyes, and innate sense of justice. The red hair was pretty much the only thing he had gotten from his mother. Like Steve, his face was an open book

He was sixteen—almost a man—and every day he grew more, reminding her that she was not the twenty-something she perpetually looked. There was nothing like watching a child grow to remind her just how fast time moves; how much everyone changes, even if it's only on the inside.

James was a good kid—kind, caring, and polite (at least most of the time). But he was also a teenager. One that was tired of being cooped up in Avenger Tower and the handful or so of safe places he frequented.

It wasn't as if she and Steve were trying to keep him sheltered from the world on purpose. It's just that James was born with a target on his back. It was inevitable, being the son of one of the world's greatest heroes (not that Nat herself was small time) and an ex-spy. There were a lot of people who would love to get their hands on him, if only to hurt his parents.

She had seen all the times Howard Stark had been kidnapped just to get to Tony and she would be damned if her enemies were going to hurt the best thing that ever happened in her twisted life just to get at her.

the thing about James is that he wanted so much to prove himself—to show the world he was worthy of his blood—to protect everything he cared so deeply about. But he wasn't ready for the harsh truth of battle. He wasn't ready to lose that bit of his innocents.

If she was being perfectly honest with herself maybe it was her that wasn't ready. When the Friends of Humanity attacked the lecture James and his friends happened to be at six months ago, he had handled himself well. But that didn't make it any easier for her to let her little boy go.

.

"It's not about Sharon. Okay, maybe it is, but not in the way you think," he said after a long moment.

"I'm happy for them. It's about time he proposed but at the same time I think it's a bad idea." He licked his lips and tried again, unable to completely articulate just where the real problem lied.

"Dad's been defrosted for what, thirty years?" He asked, looking at her, his eyes begging her to understand. It was closer to twenty five but she didn't correct him.

"And he hasn't aged a bit." He seemed to shrink in on himself as he said it. Nat warped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him back into her arms. So that was what this was about.

"Not that I've seen, no." She said with a sigh. As horrible as it may sound, a selfish part of her would have preferred that he just didn't like Sharon. It would have been an easier thing to face. She knew more then most about the great toll time charges for those who, for whatever reason, weren't swept away in its waters.

"But Sharon has,"

"Would you rather he be with someone else who doesn't age?" Nat asked.

"Yes."

"Someone like me?" She asked, joking.

There had never been anything between her and Steve past one night and more than enough Asguardian liquor (which apparently was strong enough to override her upbringing by Russian solders and Steve's high powered metabolism) to knock all rational thought from both of them.

Despite all the drama that night caused, they were still good friends. They worked together for over twenty years and Steve was one of the people she admired most. But not romantically. She had never thought of him that way and was really happy for him.

James gave her a little smile. It was no secret that when he was little he wanted his mom and dad together because that's what mommies and daddies did. It took him a while to realize that his childish attempts to play match maker were doing nothing but making the situation more awkward.

"Our family may be unconventional, but that doesn't make it dysfunctional."

"It seems you have picked up a decent vocabulary hanging around Severus."

James pretended to be offended.

"I read…sometimes." Nat smiled at his sarcasm. James could read ten times faster than most copy editors and knew five languages. It wasn't that he didn't like to read; he just finished everything so quickly.

"James, do you think your father hasn't thought about the same thing?" she said softly, "If he was looking for a sure thing his chances would be limited to almost nothing. Sometimes when it comes to relationships you can't think about the future."

"You sound like you're talking from experience," he said, picking up on a nuance most would have missed.

"I'm a ninety year old Russian spy who specialized in Valentine opps. I know a thing or two about impossible relationships."

"I didn't know you were that old." he teased and she swatted the back of his head playfully.

"You sound like you're talking about someone specific," he muttered after a moment.

There was an unwritten code amongst the Avengers. Unless someone volunteered information about their past, or it somehow is relevant to defeating a threat, no one asked. There were too many spies and tragic back stories for anyone to be comfortable opening up. It worked for them, though, because who the Avergers were didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was who they were now.

James, however, had unknowingly asked about one the more painful moments in her past.

She could have lied and said that she was talking about every relationship she had ever had—the ones where although she cared about the men, she had always known it wouldn't last because it wasn't real love...and she had learned long ago that love was for children. But she would not lie to her son unless she had to. He deserved better but there was much he didn't need to know about her past.

"He was one of my instructors in the Red Room. When we were discovered, the generals were displeased."

That was about as staral as the story could get and still be the truth. James saw that—she knew he did—but she hoped that he wouldn't ask too many more questions.

"Did they kill him?"

"No. Worse."

For a second an image flashed behind her eyes of a handsome young man floating in a tank of preserving chemicals, his dark eyes closed and his metallic left hand resting against the glass, where he was condemned to stay until his next mission. She had been in an arranged engagement to a national hero and he had been one of her combat instructors. They both knew it wouldn't last, but that didn't stop him from sneaking through her window or her from laughing as they practiced hand to hand and more intimate forms of exercise, or the consequences of those weeks from shaking her to the core.

"Do you regret it?" he asked after a moment.

"No. Not at all."

"So this isn't about the baby?" she asked changing the subject. He lifted his head and looked her in the eyes.

"No. I don't know what to think about that. There's too much age difference for us to be best friends. I mean by that time the kid can talk I'll be in college but it will be kind of cool to have a little brother or sister. I'll tell you this much though: I'm not changing diapers."

His face got more serious before he continued.

"Everything about this situation reeks of disaster."

Her poor boy. Just like Steve he took everything on his shoulders and although he was strong enough to carry that burden, he shouldn't have to—not now and not latter—but Natasha knew he would anyway. That's just the way the boy was.

He was a good kid, one that didn't deserve the burden of eternity. And it was a burden—Natasha would admit it to few outside of herself, but it was. Watching those you care about wither and die while you stay forever young. Eventually she shut her heart out—only letting people in when she had to. But James would never be able to do that. He was too much like Steve.

"You might have to face the same situation one day," she said softly as he got up and started to head for the door.

"You think I haven't thought of that?" he said harshly over his shoulder.

In that one sentence he had told his mother more than he had in the entire conversation. This was the real problem. She wondered what had caused him to realize one of the harshest truths of his world. What had made him see how dammed he was?

And he was. His mind was too bright for him not to have thought of the consequences of eternity. But there were other things he hadn't thought of. Things that may help put it in perspective for him.

"But you're not the only one."

"What do you mean?"

"Sev, Astrid, and Torunn are all immortal. If they want a relationship with someone from Earth they're going to have to think about that."

He considered this for a moment but he wasn't ready to let go of his angst.

"But at least they have a way to make whoever they wind up with immortal too."

"And you think that will fix everything?" Nat said, trying to get her son to see all sides of the situation—to make him think it through. "Do you think Howard would really leave his family behind? Do you really think he would through away Stark enterprises—what he's worked his enter life for—to live forever in a place where magic is more valued than technology? Even if it's for Astrid?"

"If he lives that long…" James muttered.

"What do you mean?"

He scratched the back of his head and gave his mother the same lopsided grin he always did when he accidentally spilled a secret.

"Well…"

* * *

I would be lying if I said I wasn't scared shitless right now, but Loki could do that to anyone. He just sat across from me on the couch studying me like I was nothing but an insect. Maybe to him at this moment I was. He could read my mind after all—there was almost no way he didn't know why I was here.

Loki could easily kill me, in fact I'm pretty sure his mind was going through all the ways he could and make it look like an accident. But this had to be done. Especially if I wanted to survive when he did find out and that wouldn't take long. Even if everyone around here could keep their mouths shut—well, the man kind of makes it a habit to be everywhere at once.

"Look Loki, I don't know the protocols for this kind of thing where you come from so I'm doing the best I can." I said taking a deep breath. I knew enough about business to know that confidence was the key to not bleeding into the shark tank. "For someone who likes lies so much, I know you don't like being lied to. Especially when it comes to you family and…well, if we tried to keep this secret lies would have been inevitable."

I was trying to lay all the cards on the table here. Not only did I honestly like Loki, he was a big part of Astrid's life. I wasn't trying to drive a wedge between them or between me and Astrid but she was still his little girl—his first born. He wasn't easily going to admit that she was growing up.

"You are asking for my permission to date my daughter?" His voice was conversational but I could hear the field of razors that lied beneath.

I took a deep breath. This next part was probably going to get me killed but I had to say it because that was the important part. That was the part that really mattered.

"No. Asking your permission would just demean the fact that Astrid has already agreed. What I'm asking for is you blessing."

"And if I do not give it." his voice slipped into a hiss and I knew I was treading into dangerous territory but I still had miles to go down that dark path.

"That's not going to change anything. Astrid's already said yes and as much as I respect you, it's her opinion that matters."

"It took a lot of courage for you to come here today, Howard." His voice was icy and dangerous. "But that will not be enough."

I sighed. I had really hoped it wouldn't come to this, but I knew that it was a long shot.

"I thought it might not be, but perhaps a bit of cunning will." Mentally I was shivering, every fiber wanted to go and hide under my bed, but that wasn't going to happen. "I probably should have waited until Darcy or Astrid was here, but I didn't want to hide behind them. This is between me and you. Just because I didn't tell them what I planned on doing doesn't mean that no one knows where I am. "

I'm sure he could guess the rest after this, but I had to be completely sure he understood that I wasn't going to budge. He should have been prepared for this; after all apparently Astrid and I were a forgone conclusion in the eyes of everyone else. We were just the last to see it.

And of course there was the fact that this conversation pretty much amounted to blackmail and considering just who the other side of the table…well let's just say that after today I think I need to get my head checked. If I survive that long.

"If come up missing after this, then you'll have a lot of uncomfortable questions to answer. I know that you would throw away your friendship with my father in a heartbeat when it comes to Astrid. But he's not the only one you would have to explain your actions to and I don't think Astrid or Darcy—or even Sev, for that matter—would take kindly to my new status as a grease spot."

"And the first thing I'm going to do when I get back is explain everything to Astrid so if you kill me after I am no longer known to be in your company, than you still have the same problem when it comes to explaining yourself. "

Loki narrowed his eyes at me and yet at the same time he looked so old behind it all. I didn't have to be a mind reader to understand what he was thinking. He accepted the fact that everything I said was true and he hated me for it.

"If you hurt her—"

I snorted, which probably wasn't the smartest thing to do at moment but I couldn't help it.

"Loki, I've known your daughter since before I could walk. I know exactly what she is and frankly, I'm more worried about her hurting me."

"Never the less—"

I don't know where I got the bravado to interrupt him a second time—perhaps because I was in complete agreement with him on this one—but I think I surprised him with the force of my conviction.

"If I ever managed to hurt her, you're welcomed to do whatever creative punishments you can come up with. I'd deserve it, and you'd be able to do a lot more than whatever I could do to myself."


	4. Power

Chapter Four:

Power

* * *

"You are either the stupidest man alive or your balls grew three sizes overnight. I'm having trouble deciding which." Sev said throwing his arm over my shoulder. He had been in an unusually good mood lately. Perhaps he had managed to get laid.

I laughed but Sev had a point—a point I had already addressed even if he seemed to ignore it. I knew he had heard me but I think he just liked to see me squirm. Hell, he just liked to see anyone squirm.

"Let's go with the second one. But really, what else was I supposed to do?" I asked, opening the door to the gym.

Surprisingly enough, the level forty four gym was completely deserted. Usually there was at least one of the Avenger kids here training at all times of the day.

What most people don't realize about the avengers is that it's not just a team, at least not anymore. Now it's an entire network of heroes. S.H.E.I.L.D. has only a handful of people who are permanent members of its team. Most of the time they're the ones whose identity isn't as secret as some of the others or they just are a career hero without much life outside of wearing tights.

Those who aren't full time Avengers often rotate in and out depending on who or what they were fighting. This allows us to tailor the team to the task at hand. After all, if you're fighting a massive sea monster it might help to have a member or two who can breathe under water. On the flip side, if you're battling a gigantic robot in the middle of the American heartland having someone who can talk to fish probably isn't the best use of resources.

But there's a lot more to being a part of that network than just battle support. It actually becomes like a gigantic, extended family. And with any family there is going to be children. That's were level forty-four comes in.

This level was designed for the kids of the Avengers who have no life outside of being a hero—for the ones who partially lived in the Avenger tower. Those of us whose parents had gone public with their identities, tended to live a very interesting life. More and more super powered bad guys come out of the wood work all the time and the quickest way to hurt a hero is through those closest to them.

And so are we. It's not like our parents forced us to follow in their footsteps, but it's inevitable. Most of us wanted to be just like our parents. We wanted to be able to live up the bright light they cast upon the world and those of us who fought it tooth and nail were eventually dragged into it.

What they didn't realize is that the existence of level forty-four would cause us to create our own team in a way and this was our club house—our one place we were safe to be ourselves.

"Waiting to make the confession in the company of my mother, sister, or myself would have been wise. At least then we would have been there to calm him if he did want to turn you to dust or worse." Sev said as he placed his hand on the biometric scanner that would let him into his locker.

"This was between me and him. I told him that."

"Yes I know," Sev didn't even bother to hide the self-satisfied smirk that leaked into his voice.

"Yeah, how?" I wasn't surprised.

"That's my job. I am Big Brother, am I not?" Sev said, laughing at the disturbingly apt code name the other kids had given him. He had long ago made it his job to know everything about everyone, saying it was just something he had to do to keep everyone safe, and it wasn't a secret amongst the Avengers, but I still found it creepy.

"Whatever. I'm just surprised he actually gave us the go ahead." I sighed as we made our way over to the mat.

Sev looked at me in that peculiar way only he and his sister could really pull off—the same look I detested; equal parts curiosity, condescendingness, and as if to say they had no clue how I could be so fucking clueless.

"You do realize that you are probably the only person in all of Midgar or Asgard he could have given permission to date my sister." He said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and I was floored. I had always been under the impression that Loki would never give ANYONE permission to date Astrid no matter what.

"What do you mean?"

Sev laughed before moving to his corner of the mat. "You've been her bitch since before you could walk. She owns your ass and you like it."

I gave him an agitated look but didn't say anything. Although I wouldn't have put it that way, I knew he had a point. He always did.

And just like that, the conversation was over. At least for now. We circled each other, waiting to see what the other would do, neither of us wanting to make the first move.

Usually hero training was heavy on the banter, but it was never like that with Sev and me. We were too focused. I was desperate to be good enough so that I never had my ass handed to me again, and he…well when the girl you have the hots for is one of the first (or was it just first?) girls allowed in your countries military, you're bound to want to beef up.

For the briefest second I saw Sev move and I saw my chance. I went in for the punch but my hand didn't make contact. At first I was pissed—we had agreed no powers and no tech, just pure skill—but then I realized he hadn't actually puffed away.

Sev had dropped to his hands and knees on the mat and started shaking, on hand wrapped tightly around his chest as if he were struggling to keep himself together. I couldn't tell if he was having a seizure, heart attack, or some sort of panic attack but either way I was scared. Sev wasn't exactly prone to any sort of sickness—godly constitution and all that.

I rushed over to help but before I could do anything, Sev unwrapped his hand from around him and held it out to stop me. Whatever had done this to him had caused him to lose control of his powers. The leather of the mat had already frozen in the sub-zero temperatures and was beginning to shatter like brittle, cracked, glass.

"What do I do?" I asked. He looked bad; like I did that time I had the flu on top of a bad case of chicken pox.

"Dad." He whispered, as his elbows gave out. The thump he made as he hit the floor sounded much louder than it should have. Maybe the colder temperature was turning his tissues to ice making a more solid object to fall, or maybe it just sounded louder to me because I was already freaking out. Either way, it didn't help my state of mind, especially when blood started eking from eyes, mouth, ears, and nose. It wasn't pouring, but it was still enough to let me know he wasn't faking it.

Despite me freaking out worse than a teenage girl when Bieber came out of the closet, I didn't let it show. When training with the Avengers there are two lesions you learn before you even touch your powers (if you have them): how to fight hand to hand without powers, and how keep a cool head in strange and dangerous situations.

I ran to the locker and pulled out my cellphone.

"Call Loki." I commanded it.

It was Darcy that answered. Not exactly who I was looking for, but if anyone could get the message to the god of mischief if it was out doing what he did best, than it would be her.

"Oh hey Howie, what are you—"

"No time. Something's wrong with Sev. Tell Loki to get his ass over here now." I knew my tone was a little disrespectful but I didn't think we had time for pleasantries.

Loki and Darcy appeared in the room before I could even hang up the phone. Poor Darcy looked as panicked as I felt and Loki wasn't much better.

"What happened?" He demanded.

"I don't know. We were sparing and then he just dropped. I didn't even land a hit."

"Too much," Sev breathed out between shakes, "it's too much."

"Too much what?" Loki said, kneeling down and gripping Sev's shoulders. I think he got into Sev's mind or something because after a few seconds of staring at each other, Sev calmed down a bit—not completely but enough that he was able to sit up Indian style on the mat.

"Magic," he whispered, still shivering, but coherent enough to summon a towel to wipe the sweat from just about every inch of exposed skin.

"What do you mean?" I asked, noticing the disturbed look on Loki's face. That scared me as much as anything. Nothing bothered Loki. Ever. At least that he let anyone but Darcy see.

Sev took a few moments to collect his thoughts before he answered, his lips still trembling as they moved.

"It's like swimming in a pool of water. When you are submerged, you can feel the weight of the water pressing down on you. If you spend enough time in a pool, you can feel when the water level is significantly off." He ran the towel through is matted curls and looked at his mother.

"And the magic level is off?" Darcy asked, trying to follow her son's analogy.

He nodded before whispering, "It's like someone dumped another full pool's worth of water right on top of me when I was swimming."

"So that," I said, motioning to where he sat on the floor, "that was you drowning in the undertow?"

He shrugged as if he hadn't really thought of it that way before giving a slow nod. "I suppose."

"How could you sense this? I felt nothing." Loki asked, causing Sev to roll his eyes.

"I've told you before; my magic is focused more outward than you and Astrid. I'm more sensitive to the world around me." He said and I could hear the exasperation in his voice. He had told everyone this before but we had always kind of assumed it was just some sort of elaborate hoax or something. I mean, with Sev it's hard to tell sometimes.

"Yes, but this sensitive?" Loki said. He was as confused as us.

"What does it mean?" Darcy asked, changing the subject, and I had to admit, I was more than a little curious myself.

"Hell if I know," he whispered looking down, "Dad, what does it mean?"

We all looked at Loki, expectantly but I could tell by the look on his face he wouldn't have any answers for us and that disturbed him as much as the rest of us.

"I do not know."

* * *

No one noticed as Omnious appeared in the middle of time square but that's exactly how he wanted it. Normal people only saw what they wanted to. Unless they were trained to look beyond the obvious, they would not see how blind they were until they had hell raining down upon their heads.

He knew that this place—this time—would be different from the world he had lived in. the air was both fresher and staler than home; more chaotic and orderly. He could feel the life milling around him. Each person had a different set of hopes, dreams, and emotions that made the air here taste like a soup after someone dumped the entire spice rack into the pot.

He knew that going two years into the past would be a different experience but he hadn't expected this. He hadn't expected to miss the quite dilapidation of his post-apocalyptic world and yet he hadn't expected to revel in the exhilaration of being just one of billions on the planet.

He walked down the crowed sidewalk, trying to think of his next move. Omnious was a good strategist, his family saw to that, but he also knew that planning too far ahead could be just as much of a hindrance. Even the most intelligent of minds could not account for every variable. Things didn't always go as planned and if you weren't able to bend you were damned to break.

The smell of rich black coffee came wafting at him from the little coffee shop he had just walked past without noticing. That had been the one thing he missed about civilization—back when it was still civilized, of course—the convenience of everything.

He smiled at the young woman behind the counter as paid and took the Styrofoam cup he was offered. Purely out of curiosity, Omnious reached out with his mind and touched her emotions which were almost as telling as if he had touched her mind. The poor girl was working a double to cover the rest

Omnious gave her a little wink before sitting down by the window. When she next opened her backpack she would find a fistful or two of hundred dollar bills lining the bottom. That was an appropriate tip for her service, right?

He gave a little chuckle and took a long drink of his coffee before turning his thoughts onto something of a slightly more serious nature. There was only one thing he could do next and it had to be done, no matter how distasteful he found it but first…

He looked out the window, his reflection superimposed upon the faces of millions. He knew genetics had been kind to him; women had always desired him, but now his visage would not help him. Not when it very well could eventually be blasted on the nightly new in an attempt to vilify him. And besides, it would do no good to drag his past self into the spotlight as a 'bad guy.' That would hardly help him in the long run.

As he watched, his hair and eyes listened, his face rounded out, and his mouth got smaller. With a slight augmentation to his height and he was ready to face the world. Or at least the slightly more unsavory corners where he can find what he needed to rend his revenge from that bastard's chemically enhanced flesh.

No one saw him disappear from the café and even if they had teleportation was not as unheard of as it once was. Not that it mattered to him what they saw—nothing they said could damage him.

He clutched his coffee as he sat in the plush leather armchair. The lights hadn't been touched although he could have easily fixed that without getting up. The dark would present a better atmosphere when he revealed himself.

His quarry wasn't far. Omnious could feel his unique blend of genius, madness, arrogance and pure assholeness. He counted down the seconds quietly in his head, moving his lips in synchronization with the numbers.

Just as he hit one, the light flipped on and he turned the chair around to face the true owner of the office.

"Hello, Herr Schmitt."

Omnious had to hand it to him; Schmitt didn't so much as filch when he saw the boy sitting in his chair although it had to be annoying.

The Skull just walked over to the bar that lined the far wall of the office and poured himself a drink. He didn't offer one to Omnious, but he was in a good mood so he let the doctor's lack of hospitality go.

"You know my name but I do not have the same pleasure," Schmitt said, taking a long drink of whatever it was in the glass.

Omnious fought the urge to laugh. This conversation was beginning to get horribly predictable. "I know a great deal more about you than just your name. And you can call me Omnious."

The Red Skull raised a brow bone in a blend of curiosity and condescendingness. "Oh?"

Omnious took a long draft of his coffee before answering.

"I know that you were a great scientist under the Fuhrer who managed to harness the power of the gods. I know that instead of being destroyed when the Valkyrie went down you were merely transported to another realm—which one is of little importance. And I know that you are currently heading the organization known as hydra along with another scientist by the name of Arnhem Zola—who somehow managed to transfer his mind into that of a robot."

"You seem to know a great deal about me," Schmitt said, refilling his glass.

"You're right I do and it wouldn't be fair if you could not say the same. Especially if we are to be partners."

"Partners? You assume too much. I could kill you were you sit." He said eyeing the boy like some sort of insect.

"But you won't." Omnious said, giving the Skull an infuriating smirk, "at least not until after I have explained myself. At the heart of it all you're a scientist, Schmitt. You're too curious for your own good."

"Here's the deal," Omnious continued; ready to lay everything out on the table. Or at least, everything Schmitt needed to know now. "I know where all the infinity gems are hidden. With your resources and my knowledge, we could have almost unlimited power. What I propose is a limited partnership. We go after them together and split them evenly, three each and then we go our separate ways."

"That's a generous offer." The Skull's attempt to fish for information was rather transparent but still, Omnious could tell that if he wanted this deal to go through, he was going to have to sweeten the pot a bit. But luckily he came prepared for any contingency.

"No, it's a fair offer. And just to sweeten the pot," Omnious said pulling a file out of his bag and sliding it across the table, "consider this a gift whether or not you decide to extend our partnership. I would use it myself, but I don't have the connections to get to this particular piece of equipment. And besides, it is uniquely suited to make Steve Rodgers suffer."

Schmitt slowly thumbed through the file looking at every detail.

"Impressive," he said, "but I do not see how—"

Omnious knew what he was going to say. He didn't understand how this single piece of decommissioned KGB technology could possibly be connected to Rodgers. He almost laughed. For all his genius, The Red Skull could be a bit too single minded at times. He always focused on destroying Rodgers, but never did pay much attention to the others—the non-enhanced—that had assisted in the Skull's failures.

He placed another file on the desk and slid it over. Schmitt thumbed through it just as slowly as the first, but the truth struck him mere pages into the second file.

"Mein Gott! Is this true?" This was the first time Schmitt had lost control of his cool exterior. His eyes widened like a little girl who had finally gotten that pony. He had tipped his hand. He was interested and Omnious knew he owned his ass; he wasn't even going to have to use the gauntlet to force this partnership to go through.

"Fate can be a fickle bitch to some and a gentle lover to others. You just have to know how to read her moods. Like I said—uniquely suited."

* * *

**AN:** Here we go, some of you comic fans know what character is going to be making an appearance. He's one of my favorites and I'm going to have fun with him. Speaking of fun, fair warning the next chapter opens in a way that diffidently pushes the boundaries of the "T" rating, so be warned.

One big thing though, I'm particularly interested in hearing what you guys think about Omni at this point. He's another character I've had fun writing ahead for.


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